Waiting For My New Life To Begin
by geekdad
Summary: It started with an arrow. When a young Artemis Crock's life is saved by the Star City vigilante, a series of events are put into motion and a path is laid out before her, one that will lead her to Gotham and a group of extraordinary individuals whose lives she finds herself tied to, all focused on the same goal. Justice. AU Spitfire & Chalant
1. Chapter 1

Waiting For My Real Life To Begin

Chapter One

Artemis Crock sat at the corner booth of the Hello Muffin café, the table in front of her covered with a combination of spreadsheets, ledgers, and business journals. The café was strategically located between the main entrance of Wayne Towers on 33rd Ave and the multitude of elevator banks that led to the different businesses and companies that resided above.

This café was a favorite among the many people that called Wayne Towers home for eight to ten hours a day, but at the moment was fairly deserted, a not so surprising fact considering it was 4:42 a.m. Anytime now she expected to hear sounds emanating from the kitchen announcing the arrival of the owner that created such delicious treats that it actually made coming to work something to look forward to. She and the sandy haired owner had exchanged hellos and pleasantries a few times, but had never really had the chance to sit down and formally introduce themselves.

In all honesty meeting people had not been high on her list of priorities once she had established herself in Gotham. The recruiter who had brought her to the financial giant her first day had warned her that once she stepped foot into that hallowed building, she'd hit the ground running and never stop. Truer words have not been spoken. It was fortunate that most people wouldn't have mistaken her for a _people person _to begin with. That's not who she was, that's not what she was hired to do, and as the saying goes you get what you pay for.

The isolation suited her fine thanks to the stack of paperwork that rested before her. There was no easing in period, reports and deadlines were due on time without flexibility or wiggle room. When the higher ups needed something, they needed it yesterday, and as the low woman on the totem pole that meant late nights and very early mornings. The café was the perfect spot to finish up and fine tune the reports due at 9:00 am sharp. No one would arrive in the café for another hour or so, and even if they did, the mountain of paperwork in front of her should have burned like a neon sign screaming _Get lost, I'm busy_ to anyone foolish enough to try and drop by uninvited to begin some inane small talk with the attractive blonde. Well almost anyone.

From behind her laptop stacked upon three large international business law books, she could smell the rich aroma of the steaming coffee placed in front of her. She sighed angrily and ignored the gesture _once again._ She had only been in Gotham less than four weeks and she'd already found herself a stalker, _just my freaking luck_, she cursed.

The browser was currently open to the financial section of the Wall Street Journal which Artemis dove head first into, praying that her intruder would finally take the hint, the same hope she had held out for the last six business days.

"Ahem," the voice in front of her announced, clearing his throat.

Artemis rolled her eyes and continued reading, using the laptop screen as a shield to warn of the annoying trespasser, but unfortunately this action only fueled his resolve.

Wally West sat patiently with his hands folded, every few seconds pushing the delicious Starbucks blend closer and closer to her. To his side rested the mailbag he carried, waiting for the moment he would delve into the bowels of Wayne Tower and pick up the daily load that he would cheerfully deliver to parts of the building.

A second attempt at getting the blonde's attention seemed to have failed once again, when a voice finally spoke out from behind the laptop.

"I have told you as politely as I can that I don't like coffee and even if I did I can get my own."

"She speaks," Wally answered cheerfully.

"Yes, she does," Artemis growled, angrily closing the lid of her laptop and glaring at the smiling redhead sitting across from her, "and once again I'm asking you as nice as I can to leave."

"No problem beautiful," he smiled, "All you have to do is tell me your name, and I'm gone like the wind."

"Listen…."

"Wally?" he answered genially, hoping that the angry blond might actually remember his name this time.

"Whatever…" she dismissed. "I speak five different languages, how many more ways can I say I'm not interested and leave me the hell alone."

"Uh, the English one's pretty crystal, but sometimes things get lost in translation." he smiled, straitening the collar of the worn out lab coat he wore around his faded Beatles t-shirt, trying but failing miserably at the hipster ironic look he attempted to cultivate.

_You're a freaking mailman_ she cursed to herself, _Be a mailman_. She felt sorry for anyone who'd fall for the lame guise he donned, but even more so for the poor soul who he'd force himself into a conversation with that would never end, but as an afterthought she realized, _better you than me._

"I understand," he said plainly, "the coffee's a non-starter." He rubbed his chin as his eyebrows rose, "How about tomorrow I bring some tea, maybe something Japanese, you know a little closer to home. Do you like Gyokuro?"

"I'm half Vietnamese moron, but I'm sure all us Asians look alike to you."

"Well actually the blonde hair…."

Finally she snapped, no longer trying able hide her disdain "For the love of God!" she yelled. "Leave me the hell alone, I've got work to do and a deadline to keep. Now buzz off!"

The red head smiled and slowly rose from the booth. "I'm growing on you Blondie, I can tell. I'm gonna get that name, trust me."

Wally looked down at his watch and winced. "Wow it's almost six, mailroom's about to open, I gotta get my move and my groove on. See ya around beautiful, remember tea's on me tomorrow," and he strolled out of the cafe with not a care in the world.

Artemis huffed pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration, until she realized the time. "Shit!" she yelled, diving back into Asian market index, worried that once again she would be fighting her deadline up until the very last minute. The next time she saw the freckled geek, she was going to beat him to death with his own mailbag.

xxx

The rest of the day was a blur of meetings and lectures. Artemis was a fast leaner, she had to be growing up the way she did, but the day had taken its toll. She shut down her lap top, placing it inside the oversized Oakley Icon military backpack she carried. It wasn't the most feminine accessory she owned, but it got the job done.

She rose from her cubicle as the cleaning crew around her made quick work of the community office area she worked in. Like all things Wayne' related, the crew was fast and meticulous, the crowded bull pen looking brand spanking new by the time they moved on to the next floor.

Artemis walked out the main exit, depositing her on the corner of 33rd and Westmoreland. Even at this hour the city was teaming with energy, the streets around her bumper to bumper. She could easily have afforded a cab, but she always preferred to walk, wanting to get a better feel for her new surroundings.

During her orientation week, the team leader in charge of new hires had already handed out a list of shopping and dining choices, parks and entertainment venues, but most importantly he went in extreme and thorough detail of parts of the city that not only transplants, but even lifelong Gothamites should avoid, the same parts of town Artemis intentionally made her way toward.

The steam escaping the manhole cover obscured her view of the alleyway, but Artemis knew exactly what lay behind it. She had heard the screams, the pleas, the sounds of violence. Star City wasn't the sprawling metropolis that was Gotham, but no matter how big or small a city, the criminal element always remained same, no one knew this better than her.

From the corner of the building, Artemis craned her neck carefully to see the young prostitute lying on the ground twenty yards ahead, the corner of her lip bleeding. The man standing threateningly above her spoke in a thick Russian accent, randomly changing languages as his anger level rose. Eastern Bloc dialects were not her specialty but even without a rudimentary knowledge of the vocabulary, she could easily understand the conversation.

From what she could piece together, the young prostitute's infant daughter was ill and in need of her mother's care, but the young Russian had not earned her required quota for the night and her handler was not pleased, which he made crystal clear when he struck her to the ground and assaulted her repeatedly.

"It will be hard to care for your daughter if you're dead," he sneered rolling his r's "There are a thousand more just like you begging to escape mother Russia for this god forsaken Western lifestyle. Now clean yourself up and get back on the streets…Now!" he demanded.

The young girl sobbed silently, not wanting to give her handler the satisfaction. She thought of her infant, fighting off the severe flu virus that was spreading across the city, being cared for by her drug addicted neighbor who was just as likely to pass out as she was to come to the child's aid. She hesitated, desperately trying to weigh her options, hoping that the animal above her had some tiny shred of decency. When he grabbed her by the neck and drug her to her feet with his fist cocked firmly in place, she realized he didn't.

As the pimp swung back, the sound of a metal can clanging off the concrete echoed throughout the alleyway. He dropped the prostitute back to the ground and wheeled around to look at the intruder. His hand rested on his pistol, preparing to take it out of its holster when the arrow sliced through his palm, lodging it into the old brick wall behind him. Three more followed, two in the thighs and one more in his shooting hand for good measure.

"Идти (Go)" the archer ordered as the girl jumped to her feet and raced away from the scene.

The man howled in pain until a calloused hand grabbed his cheeks, squeezing them together and silencing him, her other hand holding a blade to his jugular.

"Vhat do you want?" he pleaded.

The archer never replied, and the sounds of her assaults and his wails of agony reverberated down the backstreet, ultimately drowned out by the unyielding Gotham traffic. As he rested on the ground, fighting to stay conscious, a steel toed boot smashed into his mouth, ensuring that his days of solid food would be at an end for the next few months. She reached down, pulling out the razor tipped arrows from the unconscious pimp's body, wiping them down and disassembling the crossbow, before putting them both back into her pack and leaving the man bloody and beaten. Her message had been delivered this night, much clearer than if actually spoken. She knew in her heart that asshole would think twice about touching one of his girls like that again, and if he did, he'd spend the next few weeks nervously looking over his shoulder until Artemis found him again. She continued on her path, a small smile on her face, content on taking the dark, dangerous route home, hoping she'd come across more criminals in need guidance and rehabilitation.

Sixteen stories above, crouched carefully on the building's rooftop, a figure in black packed away his thermal scopes and opened his communicator, sending of a coded message to its intended recipients. _The package is in the open, and it's as good as advertised._


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note__: First and foremost I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday. Be safe, be smart, and enjoy the season. This story of course has gotten much longer and more complex than the original one-shot I had intended. It always seems to happen like this, but this won't be 20+ chapter angst fest __Lightning Strikes__ became. _

_Secondly it's building to something, so you have to be patient. This fic was inspired by one of my all-time favorite stories __Shop Girl__ by the amazing __fandom-duty-honor__. If you haven't read that or have lived under a rock for the last year, stop immediately and check it out. Go ahead…I'll wait. _

_Enjoy the story, a kind of post college take on our favorite heroes. Spitfire and heroics are soon on the horizon._

Chapter Two

The red head was true to his word, and the next morning Artemis was presented with a steaming hot cup of Vietnamese Lotus Tea, one that smelled particularly good and authentic. She had been in Gotham for over a month now and had had no luck in finding any restaurants or coffee shops that produced anything close to this quality. The annoying mailman had actually put quite a bit of effort in obtaining it and a part of her hated to see it wasted as she _accidently_ knocked it off the table with her overloaded work satchel.

Wally sat across from her at the booth, arms crossed in irritation as the contents pooled on the table before dripping to the floor.

"Really?" he questioned irritably, eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

"Sorry," she shrugged innocently, packing up her belongings and heading towards the door. "but I would love to know where you got it from."

"Sure tell me your name, and I'll even give you directions."

Her nose crinkled a bit. "Sorry, don't need to know that bad, so as always…leave me alone and not interested."

"Received loud and clear," Wally replied good-naturedly, "See you tomorrow."

Artemis rolled her eyes and groaned, making her way to the elevator. For the briefest of moments she imagined different seedy locales within the city she'd recently discovered where she could possibly hide the ginger's body. This produced a satisfied smile that lasted most of the morning.

Time flew by as she entered the final numbers in the Excel spread sheet and saved it. Looking up at the clock she was surprised to see that it was close to 3:00 pm. She'd missed lunch as usual, but she didn't mind. The Asian market reports were important, and with the big merger set tomorrow, the higher ups needed the reports, and they needed them done right. She had double checked all her figures and took pride in the fact that tomorrow's meeting would be based upon her analysis. She hoped someone would notice, but was resigned to the fact she'd only been at the company a few weeks, and she had to pay her dues like anyone else before she could even think about climbing the corporate ladder.

Artemis took off her reading glasses and rubbed her weary eyes for a moment when she noticed the unmistakable fragrance of Chanel No. 5 emanating from overhead. The blonde opened her eyes and looked up at the smiling face of the attractive well-dressed woman standing above. Artemis immediately straightened up in her seat and popped her glasses back into place. She recognized the brunette from her many trips through the bullpen. She'd always been friendly and cordial to the staff. Of the few times Artemis actually initiated a conversation with a fellow co-worker, she discovered the congenial raven haired woman was actually the senior assistant to the vice president. To see her standing in front of a low level analyst like herself shocked and concerned the blonde that perhaps she had not double checked her numbers as well as she thought.

"Artemis?" The woman asked.

"Yes ma'am," the blonde replied nervously.

"Hi, I'm Zatanna Zatarra, I work for Mr. Grayson."

"Yes mam, what can I do for you Ms. Zatarra." Artemis asked anxiously.

"Well you can start by calling me Zatanna or Zee, whichever you prefer, and second your resume says you multilingual right?"

"Yes mam," Artemis replied rigidly.

The brunette sighed, "Just Zee ok? I'm not huge fan of formalities."

"Uh ok…Zee, sorry. I'm fluent in Cantonese, Mandarin, Thai, Vietnamese of course, Japanese, and enough Russian and French to get by in a crunch. Is there something you need me to translate?"

"Not quite," Zatanna smiled. "The Japanese contingent arrived a day early, they like to do things like this thinking it will throw us off our game and give them some kind of advantage. Mr. Grayson wants to call their bluff and begin negotiations, but our interpreters are booked until tomorrow."

Artemis swallowed hard, seeing the direction this conversation was heading. "Mam, I have no experience in negotiations whatsoever."

"Artemis you'll do fine, Dick…..Mr. Grayson is great at stuff like this. All he needs is someone familiar with the merger and can speak the language. He's read you reports several times and he's impressed. You know your stuff. You'll be perfect."

Artemis sighed, realizing there was no escape. This was the moment anyone wanting to move up and be noticed dreamed of, however a little warning would have been nice, but chances like this don't happen very often. Depending on traffic she could probably get home, freshen up and put on her best business suit and be back in less than two hours. The cab ride there and back would give her plenty of time to brush up on her Japanese and review the contracts. She stood up and grabbed her bags.

"You can count on me. What time does the meeting start?" the blonde asked.

"Now," Zatanna smiled.

She dropped her bags as her face went pale._ Great_ Artemis groaned.

Zatanna took the blonde by the arm and the two quickly made their way to the boardroom on the top floor of the Wayne Tower. Artemis frantically skimmed over the terms of the merger; cash versus equity, escrow and earn outs, timetables, etc. All seemed in order until she came across the closing conditions of the stock options. The elevator doors opened and Zatanna gently grabbed the blonde and escorted her down the hallway as Artemis reread the closing conditions one final time.

She closed the folder and looked up just in time to screech to a halt and refrain from walking directly into the Senior Vice President of Wayne Tech, a one Richard Grayson. He stood patiently outside the glass boardroom as the Japanese contingent sat sternly inside.

With his team of lawyers and negotiators surrounding them, Zatanna frowned slightly as she forced herself into professional mode. "Mr. Grayson, this is Artemis Crock from the Pacific Analyst group. She's the one who wrote the Southeast Asia Renewable Energy Market report you were so impressed with."

His eyes brightened in recognition. "Right… Hi Artemis, I'm Dick Grayson," he smiled amiably, taking her hand and shaking it. It took all her effort to keep her mouth closed from staring agape as she was introduced to the heir apparent. He looked exactly as handsome as he did on the cover of GQ's 30 under 30, the latest in a series of articles about _The young disruptors, innovators and entrepreneurs out to change the world_, the same issue that rested comfortably on her bedside table.

"Look, I'm _really_ sorry to have yanked you up for this without any warning, but the interpreter firm we use mysteriously had two guys out and the other two double booked. Truthfully I wouldn't put it past Yashida Industries to have actually booked them up, but I don't like being bullied. Thanks for doing this, I really appreciate it."

"Uh…yes sir," was all she could come up with. _Brilliant response Artemis_ she cursed herself. Dick smiled and squeezed her hands.

"Don't be nervous, you're going to do fine. I've read your reports; you know the market and their company probably better than they do. What do you say we go buy ourselves a tech company?"

Artemis nodded and looked over at Zatanna with a panicked look. The brunette smiled back at her and mouthed, _"You're going do great. Stop worrying_."

Artemis nodded and took a deep breath, thankful for the senior assistant's support. As the lawyers slowly entered the boardroom, Artemis paused nervously, attempting to get the Vice President's attention.

"Mr. Grayson….?"

Dick paused as his lawyers made their way past them and inside and seated themselves.

"What's wrong Artemis?" he asked calmly.

"Sir, I'm no senior analyst or anything, but just glancing at the contract they submitted, all of the option prices are not only based on the yen instead of the dollar, but they're well below market value. To put it bluntly, they're screwing us."

Dick broke out in a smile and nodded. "I've had a whole team of lawyers working on the language of this contact for months now, and you're the first one to notice the discrepancy. You _are_ good."

Artemis tilted her head and stared back at him quizzically, her brows furrowed in mild confusion.

Dick came closer to her, his voice just above a murmur. "They're not entitled to any splits of the stock within the first 12 months of the merger, and after we announce we've acquired their technologies and copyrights, were going to announce our split four weeks later. Within ten months or so, our stock price will be back to pre-merger prices. We and our stock holders will come out of this looking really good financially speaking, and there's nothing Yashida can do about it, but that was a great catch on your part."

"I told you she was good," Zatanna beamed

Dick nodded. "Let's get this done before they figure out whose screwing who."

Artemis laughed quietly. She didn't know what she had expected of the higher ups that evaluated her work, but she surely didn't expect them to be so close to her age and so….normal. These were powerful people that changed the face of business regularly, but they seemed like they'd be just as comfortable at a college bar watching football as they would signing a multi-billion dollar merger.

Two hours later both sides exchanged handshakes as the ink on the contract dried. The deal was done. The Japanese group bowed respectfully and silently before leaving the boardroom en route to Gotham International and the long trip back to Tokyo, quietly smug and satisfied that they'd pulled a fast one on another arrogant Western company that missed out on the simplest of errors. "No wonder their economy is crumbling," one executive smirked stepping into his limousine, "these Americans can't even do simple math."

The Wayne negotiators shook hands and dispersed, satisfied with another job well-done, leaving Artemis, Zatanna, and Dick alone in the glass encased boardroom. Zee came up with three glasses of champagne that literally appeared out of nowhere. "I told you you'd do great."

Artemis smiled proudly, "Wow that was….that was kinda of fun."

Dick nodded in agreement. "It can be when you come out on top. They'll do fine in the long run, but I'd like to be a fly on the wall back in Tokyo when they realize what they signed, but you know things like this happen on both sides from time to time, it's just the nature of business."

"Mr. Grayson, thank for giving me the opportunity."

"No thank you Artemis. Not many people could have pulled off what you did today. You did great, I mean it. Zee maybe we should rethink the Wayne policy on in-house interpreters. Cancel the contract with the Gotham Language Institute, I think we need to get back to using our own people specifically. I think Artemis alone could pull off the whole Pan-Pacific region without all the headaches and red tape we get from that firm."

"I think that's a great idea," Zee agreed.

"I'm sorry, what now?" Artemis asked confused.

The two ignored the blonde's confusion and continued. "Zee call Schwarz over in the counsel's office to draw up the termination language. I want to see it before they send it, and how about first thing next week we get the guys down in personnel together and officially hammer out a title and a pay schedule for the new positions. She'll be our first hire, then will post the position for the other regions later."

Zatanna nodded and finished entering the instructions into her iPad for processing as Dick continued.

"Let me take you two out tonight, call it a business dinner, celebrate the merger and your new position with us. Zee you up for it?"

"I can't," she sighed, "I have that _thing_ tonight."

"That's tonight? Oh yeah," Dick replied dejectedly. "Maybe we should do it another night, you might need my help."

"Nope. KF and I have that covered, provided he shows up on time… I swear that boy… anyway you two have fun, we'll be fine."

"Ok. Well Artemis if you'll be so kind to join me, I have a standing table at Cipranis. Now don't go get all fancied up this, what you have on will be great. I'll send a car for you around 8:00. Is that good for you?"

Artemis nodded, her head swimming.

"Great, See you tonight. Zee call me later and…tell me how it went."

"Will do," the brunette replied. Dick smiled and walked off, entering the code into the keypad of his private elevator before disappearing behind steel doors.

Zatanna walked over to the board table and collected the contracts as Artemis stood frozen. "You'll like the restaurant. It's a tad trendy, but the entrees are wonderful, and the croquembouche is to die for. You better head, you know how bad that Gotham rush hour traffic is. Have fun."

"Zatanna, what just happened?" the exasperated blonde asked in bewilderment.

"You just got promoted," the brunette smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

_How did I get here?_ the blonde kept asking herself as she haphazardly glanced through the menu while Dick Grayson had excused himself to take a call. There were no prices anywhere to be found and Artemis realized it was probably for the best. One night of fine dining at this place was probably equivalent to two or more weeks of her salary… at least. She had her almost maxed-out credit cards ready just in case, but felt secure that Mr. Grayson….Dick… wouldn't have invited her just to go dutch.

She knew life in Gotham would be hectic, but she never dreamed it would move this fast. One minute she's finishing up marketing reports and the latest Nikkei analysis, the next minute she's involved in billion dollar mergers, being asked questions and her opinions of rival companies presentations and holdings. Things like this just didn't happen, not to someone with her back ground.

xxx

It was less than year and a half ago that she graduated college and took the entry level position at Queen Consolidated, the one her college guidance counselor Ms. Lance had set up by calling in a few favors.

Looking in the mirror before her first day, wearing the business suit her mom had sown, Artemis remarked at the image staring back at her, a far cry from the teenager who spent almost as much time in juvenile detention as she did at home, if you could ever truly call it that.

She was the wayward daughter of Lawrence Crock, aka Crusher Crock, aka Sportsmaster. A violent local criminal and bagman as well as strong arm to whatever crime boss paid the most. That life was all she and her sister had ever known. By the time Artemis was eight shed's already joined her father on several _outings_, namely heists, collections, and on occasions…robberies.

Paula Crock was no saint herself, but the day she caught Artemis and Jade in a lie about where they'd been, when she discovered that Crusher had brought their children into the life, she vowed to herself that as soon as she got the chance, she would take her daughters as far away as she could from this violent man and never look back. Her oldest daughter beat her to it and Jade ran away at the age of fifteen.

Then came the accident.

There was no food in the cupboards, the refrigerator empty. Paula reluctantly agreed to join her husband on a quick smash and grab, and of course the young eager blonde tagged along. It was either that or starve, and Paula quietly cried all the way to the job, knowing Artemis had as little a choice as she did.

Crusher was sure the Jewelry Store owner was unarmed, all the way up to the point where the jeweler's Smith and Wesson 22 revolver was aimed directly at his daughter head. Lawrence hesitated while Paula did not, shoving her daughter out of the way and providing them an escape, while she stayed behind. That night Paula Crock took the rap but more importantly took a bullet as well. A year and a half jail sentence was nothing compared to spending the rest of her life in a wheelchair.

After flattening out her prison sentence, Paula retuned home and tried her best to give Artemis some sort of stability, normalcy, while her husband berated her, day in and day out for being sloppy and unprofessional. The reason they lived in squalor was all because of her he blamed, not his drinking and gambling, but Artemis knew the truth. Her mother had sacrificed everything to save her, while her father would have abandoned her to take the rap, confident that the justice system would be more lenient on a teenager than it would with someone with his criminal record, but his time was soon running out.

Artemis could still clearly remember the day of her high school graduation as her dad was _escorted_ out from the school assembly kicking and screaming by more cops than you'd find at a Duncan Donuts. Star City detectives had finally acquired enough DNA evidence to pin years' worth of thefts, burglaries, and violent crimes on the man known as Sportsmaster.

She never cried once, not at the taunting and ridicule of her classmates, not at their eviction from the apartment they lived, or even when she and her crippled mother were forced to move into the government housing projects in an area of town no teenager should be living. Never once did she shed a tear.

Paula made her apply to schools despite knowing full well that the teen didn't have the grades or money to peruse any form of higher education. While her mother worked temp jobs at night just to keep the family afloat, the blonde spent most evenings on the rooftop, trying to find her place in the world and dreaming of a future, any future.

_If only Jade would have taken me with her _she longed.

A sad consequence of growing up in the _"life"_ was a pretty good understanding and familiarity with weapons. It was common place for guns and ammunition to be scattered all across the Crock household back in the day. It was only a matter of time before daddy taught his little girls how to use them. Artemis hated guns, hated the sound they made as they echoed throughout the neighborhoods she grew up in, or when she saw the byproduct of their use splattered across her father's jacket after he would come home late at night from _"work." _

She preferred the crossbow, an elegant and silent weapon, more in line with her Asian heritage than some crude pistol. She wasn't a prodigy, but she was close. All she needed was a little instruction, but her mother refused. Never in a million years could she have guessed who would eventually provide it.

It was a cold overcast night in Star. Artemis was sitting outside on the fire escape, her exhausted mother having fallen asleep hours ago. She sat crouched down, knees to her chest, headphones plugged into the iPod she had _"found"_ when she saw the woman go flying across the room through the window of the housing complex across from her. Artemis watched the young mother as she rose to her feet, watched as the giant hands of her husband grabbed her and pulled her away from the door, preventing her escape. She saw the man with her father's eyes, the same hate, the same intent.

Artemis never remembered much after that moment, just fleeting glimpses; the sensation of flying as she jumped from the fire escape, the crescendo of breaking glass when she smashed through the apartment window, his vice like grip as he knocked her weapon away and began crushing the her windpipe, the blinding light when her forehead met his as the teen attempted to escape his hold, the suffocation she felt when her body slammed up against the cold concrete wall knocking the remaining breath from her, and finally the color green.

A gloved emerald hand pulled her safely away from her assailant, laying her gently down next to the man's beaten wife as the blonde fought to stay conscious. She remembered the hooded figure beating the man so severely he sobbed like a child begging forgiveness, but the object that stuck out the most was the arrow, its razor tip gleaming bright while it rested on the abuser's throat. Artemis recalled the sensation of being carried before finally blacking out.

She awoke later that night on the rooftop of her own complex, a note folded neatly in her pocket with instructions of where and when to meet if she actually wanted to learn how to use the weapon she was never able to unsheathe. That was the day a unique apprenticeship began.

Names were never exchanged, though she felt confident he knew hers. Instructions and lessons were given, warm tea on cold nights, counsel for a teen trying to break away from a past she regretted, just sometimes good company, someone who didn't judge her for the life she was born into. The vigilante never acknowledged the silly moniker the media gave him, but he never corrected her when she called him _Arrow._ Things started moving fast then and they never stopped.

A scholarship arrived within weeks to a small private college just north of the city, money was consistently deposited into a checking account to cover minor expenses for both her and her mother. When she and the vigilante would meet to train, Artemis would tell the hooded figure she didn't need his money, but his _I don't know what you're talking about_ look was amusing and kind of charming.

She asked to patrol with him, but he'd refuse. "_I don't do partners well" _or "_Focus on your school work,"_ were his responses, but that never stopped her. She would sneak out of the dorms from time to time to use the skills she had learned; eventually meeting up with him on a rooftop somewhere, but still took his advice and within three years carrying a 3.6 GPA graduated with a major in business and two minors. The job at Queen Consolidated shortly followed, and today she sat in one of the finest restaurants in Gotham City, discussing a job that had been created specifically for her. Artemis hoped the vigilante knew how thankful she was for his help; she never got to tell him in person after she left her job at Queen. She looked for him at night with no success before leaving Starling City, but kept up with his exploits on the internet after that. She hoped he was proud of her.

xxx

Artemis flipped through the pages of the menu, looking for something that wouldn't break the bank no matter how wealthy her date was. _It's not a date_ she assured herself. No matter how gorgeous Dick Grayson was, he did not seem like the kind of guy who dated employees, even though she did get a vibe that something was going on between him and Zatanna that was not just strictly business.

It definitely wasn't an attempt to sleep with her, he could have his choice of women from all over the world, but if even for a second he thought she was now his property, he would have her two weeks' notice shoved so far up his ass he'd be able to taste the ink.

There was just something about him though; she just couldn't put her finger on it.

Artemis heard the chair pull out from behind the menu and the figure sat down across for her.

"_Just be yourself_," she kept repeating in her mind, "_but a cooler, nicer, friendlier, saner….aw screw it,… just don't embarrass yourself" _Artemis finally settled for.

Dick had asked her to choose the wine before he left to take the call, and when she lowered the menu hoping she'd made a semi educated guess, green eyes stared back at her.

"Hey beautiful, fancy meeting you here. You ordered yet?" Wally asked.

Artemis felt her hands begin to shake as all the blood rushed from her face and her temples began to ache_. _

_This_ _is not happening; this is not happening_ she screamed in her mind.

Today had been the most important day in her professional career. She was dining with the vice president of the company, they were going to eat fine food, drink fine wine and discuss her future, people would see her with one of People Magazines sexiest men of the year, maybe even have her picture plastered on some New York society rag she could clip out and send back to the bitches she went to high school with, there was no way on earth she was actually sitting across from the mail guy.

"What in the fuck are you doing here?" she growled quietly through gritted teeth.

"Um.. eating dinner? or about to at least. What's good? Hey! Why don't you pick us out an appetizer? I looovee cheese sticks!" Wally beamed and then tapered off turning his menu upside down in frustration, "But I don't exactly see them on here. Maybe they've got a kid's menu or something"

Artemis reached down to her black stilettos, making sure they were strapped on as tight as possible, and sought out the red head's shin out and kicked him as hard as she could.

"Oww!" he yelled loud enough for a few patrons to glance over at the mismatched couple before going back to their own conversations and meals. Wally pulled his leg up and massaged his shin.

"What the hell was that for?" he asked innocently, tinges of pain escaping from his eyes.

"You have got to go. Now!" she demanded trying to keep her voice just below her fellow patron's radar. "I've put up with this whole morning coffee thing just to be nice, but this is a whole new level of creepy. I'm not playing anymore jack ass. You need to get it through your thick skull. I don't like you. You creep me the fuck out. I don't want to be your friend or anything else and I mean _anything else_. I'm only going to say this one more time…"

"Wally?" he said encouragingly, hoping to spark her memory so she would remember his name.

"I don't give a shit what your name is; just please for the love of God…leave."

"Ummm excuse me?" Dick Grayson spoke standing above the red head, finally returning from his call to find his seat taken.

"Well this is awkward," Wally sighed, looking around the restaurant for the maître d. "I'm sure they have another chair they can send over if you want to join us, but we _were_ just about to order. Your timing kinda sucks dude."

"Artemis? Do you know this guy?" Dick questioned.

"_Artemis_!" Wally announced, head palming himself, "Awesome name! I had you pegged as a Matilda or a Beatrice, but I really like _Artemis_. Goddess of something right? Just give me a second I'll get it."

He pulled out his iPhone and did a quick wiki search when he looked up at the tall brunette scowling and the blonde's eyes watering.

"Please leave," she said almost on the verge of tears, she hated tears. This night was supposed to be the first step in her new life in Gotham, and it was dissolving away second by second.

"All you had to do was ask beautiful." He stood up from the table, putting his crumpled napkin on the plate. He turned to face the businessman. "Hey! You're Dick Grayson right? that rich guy who works in my building. Wow! Small world." Wally shrugged, pulling his seat out so Grayson could take it.

"You be good to my girlfriend now ok? No funny business. She's not that type of girl. Anyway you kids have fun. Artemis remember _no means no _in any language.. Later taters."

Artemis covered her mortified face in her hands while Dick watched the red head stroll out of the restaurant. Dick reached over to the empty table beside him and retrieved a fresh napkin while depositing the one the ginger had laid in his lap, hoping to push past the awkwardness of the last few minutes.

Artemis was nauseous, swallowing hard to keep the bile from raising any farther in her throat. She kept hoping any second now she'd wake up in her bed to find the whole day had been some kind of dream. As excited as she to have been part of the merger, she would gladly give it up to erase the last few minutes from their collective consciousness and go back to her job in the bullpen. She opened her eyes and finally found the courage to look at Grayson, surprised to see the calm, almost amused expression on his face.

"Mr. Grayson, I am sooooo sorry," she begged. "I'm not his girlfriend, I don't even know him. Ok I know him a little because he comes into the muffin shop every morning and tries to hit on me, but I don't know him-know him. He's like the mail guy over at Wayne Towers. Every morning he brings me coffee and I tell him to stop and leave me alone but it only encourages him. And every time I think he finally understands, he just comes back the next day like nothing happened and starts this _shit_ all over again, and I just…."

Artemis felt her control waning and her composure slipping. "I just want to beat him to a bloody pulp until it sinks in and he leaves me alone before I take him to the Jersey Shore and bury his body next to Jimmy Hoffa…."

"Artemis…." Dick calmly tried to interrupt.

"I mean who wears a lab coat to deliver the mail? Come on really? Are you that desperate for attention? I should have realized it the first time I said hello back to him and then he pulled up a chair that I had screwed up royally, but I was trying to go against type and just be nice for once, but all I did was invite crazy to come over and play, maybe buy a house next to me," she vented uncontrollably.

Dick's mouth opened to interrupt, but the blonde never took a breath.

"He's a full-fledged nut job stalker, and I should never have talked with him the first place, but I seem to attract that element and I don't know why, maybe it's my perfume. Now I'm having dinner with my boss trying to impress him and he's just seen ten types of batshit crazy come flying out of me, and all I want to do is just start this whole day over, maybe the month…"

Dick reached over and took her hands and squeezed them in hopes of calming her down.

"It's ok…. Look at me Artemis," he pleaded squeezing her hands again, "It's ok. I know all about this guy," he sighed.

The blonde regained her composure and straightened up in her chair. "You're kidding right?" she asked surprised. "You're the VP of one of the biggest companies in the world. You play golf with guys like Bill Gates and Larry Ellsion and you actually want me to believe you know the mail guy?"

"Unfortunately," Dick sighed.

"Unbelievable. Is there any chance you could….I don't know…. maybe fire him? I'll work nights, weekends, whatever it takes. No one has to know right? It will save me from having to dig a shallow grave for him."

Artemis stopped mid-sentence with a horrified look on her face that she had just told her boss she might have homicidal tendencies

"I'm kidding, you know that right?"

"I know," Dick chuckled, almost savoring the thought of the ginger's demise, "but as far as firing him, I wish I could sometimes, but unfortunately he doesn't' work for me."

"I thought all mail and custodial systems fell under Wayne," she asked, kind of surprised that tidbit from the orientation seminar and subsequent handbook had stuck with her.

"They do, it's just… well…he's not the mail guy," Dick sighed pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation with the red head.

"What?" she asked curiously.

Dick twisted his neck with an audible crack, trying to relieve the tension that had suddenly built up there in the last ten minutes before finally rubbing his hand through his hair in weariness.

"His name's Wally West, actually Dr. Wallace West. He's the chief geneticist over at Lord Omniversal Research and Development and…" Dick sighed… "my best friend most of the time."

Bile began its second journey north in as many minutes and Artemis tried her best not to slide under the table and crawl out unnoticed by Gotham's high society.

"So have you looked at the menu?" Dick asked as if nothing had happened. "What looks good?"

_Authors' Note:__ Sorry for the update delay, I got covered up in life but I'll do better. It really bums me out when an author starts a story and you get invested and then never finishes it. That won't happen here I promise. Speaking of stories I just finished one I'm really proud of. If you have time take a look at it let me know what you think. It's called "Until We Meet Again" and it's under a series of one shots called "I Should Have Done This a Long Time Ago." Bring a tissue. Thanks for reading and I'll see you in a week or two._


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